The Odd Couple
by Lilly McShepin
Summary: A series of little snippets in our favorite duo's lives. Not slash.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: I. Own. Nothing.**

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"You bought a car." Peter said in disbelief. Jones raised his eyebrows – his lips pressing together tightly as he fought to smother his laughter.

Neal shrugged and smiled brightly – every gleaming tooth visible. "Business has been good at the bakery. Apparently being owned by a known… _reformed _conman puts it at tourist attraction level."

"You don't even have a license!" Peter shouted, waving the copies of Neal's bank statements in the conman's face. "At least not a _legal _one!"

Neal's lips twitched slightly. "That's why I have a chauffeur."

Jones turned away, biting his lip – his eyes shining with mirth.

Peter's mouth fell open and he just stared at Neal – his mouth working but no sound coming out.

"It's Haversham, isn't it?" He said finally.

Neal's smile widened.

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**Just a little 'bout of silliness. Reviews feed the monster within.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I was looking at my hands the other day and I had a little moment. And thus - this was born.**

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"Do you know how _amazing_ that is?" Neal said - looking at the palms of his hands with fascination. "That not a single solitary person has the same fingerprints as another person. No repeats – not ever!"

"Fascinating." Mozzie said shortly, rolling his eyes and pushing his glasses back with his index finger.

"Mozzie –" Neal said in slight annoyance, glancing at the shorter man. "It is more than _fascinating. _It's like a combination for a lock. Except instead of hundreds of possibilities – there are millions and billions… more than you can think of! _Everybody _in the world has their own fingerprint. There are no two the same."

"Which is why the Suits _like_ fingerprints, Neal." Mozzie pointed out – wiggling his fingers for emphasis. "Makes it really easy to catch a guy when he leaves behind his calling card!"

Neal ignored him. "My hands are one of a kind." He mused absentmindedly. "They can never be reproduced." His lips curled into a small smile. "I'm rare. A priceless, irreplaceable piece of art."

Mozzie snorted. "They're just fingerprints, Neal."

"Yeah." Neal said – his hands clenching and unclenching into fists – his eyes watching with all the wonder of a child as the skin rippled over his knuckles. "But they are _my_ fingerprints. And nobody else has them."

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**I was going to have this just be interactions between Peter and Neal - but this little bit came to mind and I had no place to put it except here. Oh well.**

**Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Happy Valentine's day, dear readers. ^^ **

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"You are unbelievable." Neal said in disbelief, his eyes wide.

Peter scowled and looked out the cab window - avoiding the conman's gaze. "It's not my fault."

Neal shook his head, seemingly dazed. "I'm surprised you even _have _a wife - the way you act."

"It's not my fault!" Peter snapped, his voice dark with frustration. "It's a stupid holiday anyways..."

Neal snorted. "Yeah. A holiday that makes women feel good about themselves-"

"Not if they're single!" Peter interjected, jabbing a finger in Neal's direction - his voice triumphant as he made what he felt was a very valid point.

Neal ignored him. "-and usually ends with a romp in the sheets by the end of the night-"

"Not when your mother-in-law is sleeping in the guest room!" Peter's scowl deepened.

Neal froze before suddenly breaking out in a huge, _this-is-to-good-to-be-true,_ grin_. _"Elizabeth's mother is spending the night? On Valentine's Day!?" He seemed to be fighting back laughter.

Peter nodded glumly. "She decided to _surprise _us. She is staying with us for the rest of the week."

"I'm sorry Peter-" The pearly white grin spoke otherwise. "I don't know what to say... maybe it is karma."

"I haven't done anything wrong!" The FBI agent snapped.

"It's for forgetting to get Elizabeth a Valentine's gift." Neal clarified, his voice smug.

Peter ignored him the rest of the cabdrive to the florists.

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**Not my best - but in my mind I found it amusing. Please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**In response to Karly/Knight's reviews - what is the point of anybody writing fanfiction? Really. And if my writing seems lazy - it's because it _is _lazy. This is what I do in my down-time. This is where I let my mind wander. And - honestly - if you don't like it, just don't read it.**

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"Did you just give him a key to your house?" Jones gaped – gesturing in disbelief to Peter's office – where Neal was playing his umpteenth game of solitaire on Peter's computer.

Peter shrugged. "El and I are going to her sister's wedding in Utah. We had to have someone look after the dog."

"You trust him in your house?" Lauren asked incredulously. She crossed her arms across her chest. "I check to make sure I still have my wallet every time he walks by."

Peter snorted. "If Caffrey wanted to steal something from my house – he would've done it by now." He shot a glance towards his office – seemingly genuinely amused. "And he wouldn't need the house key to do it."

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**I found this when I was cleaning off my hard-drive. I thought it was sorta cute. Please review. ^^**


	5. Chapter 5

**I want it to be Tuesday night already! Must - see - new - White - Collar - episode!**

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"What do you know about Walter Forbes?" Peter asked bluntly as he shut the office door with a sharp _click_.

Neal snorted and spun around slowly in Peter's office chair. "Well I can assure you that _that _is not one of my aliases."

Peter raised an eyebrow – even as the lines around his mouth softened in fond bemusement.

"Alleged aliases." Neal quickly amended. Peter rolled his eyes and tossed a manila file on the desk, gesturing for the conman to open it.

"Walter Forbes was the chairman of Cendant Corporation." Peter explained, sinking into the chair opposite of his _consultant. _"He participated in a scheme to inflate the stock of Cendant's predecessor, CUC International, by $500 million. The day after the fraud was disclosed, Cendant's market value dropped by $14 billion. At the time, it was the largest case of accounting fraud in U.S. history." He leaned back – looking faintly disbelieving. "You don't know any of this?"

Neal glanced up the files. "It says here that he was convicted of conspiracy and false reporting to the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission." He grinned slightly, a somewhat predatory gleam in his blue eyes. "He was sentenced to-" Neal glanced back down at the paper. "Twelve years and seven months in prison and was ordered to pay $3.275 billion in restitution." He closed the folder and leaned back in his chair – interlocking his fingers above his head. If anything, the conman looked _smug._ "I only know the _best _criminals."

Peter just looked at him. "Don't the words '_largest case of accounting fraud in U.S. history' _mean anything to you?"

Neal rolled his eyes. "That was in the 1990's – times have changed. Besides – he got caught, didn't he? The best never get caught."

"_You_ were caught." Peter shot at him.

Neal just waved the comment away. "There is a first time for everything…"

"You were caught _twice, _Neal." Peter spoke dryly.

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**I considered making this a story of its own - explaining _why _Peter was bringing up a criminal that is already behind bars (in my mind - there was going to be a copycat attempting to do basically the same thing), but I got lazy and after I wrote the last line (my favorite line), I decided that I could just put it here for a laugh. ^^**

**Please review!**


	6. Chapter 6

Mozzie blinked owlishly at Peter. "Does anybody need a reason not to like guns?"

Peter shrugged. "Most people have a reason." His lips twitched slightly as Neal mumbled incoherently in his sleep, shifting on the bed. "But - then again..."

"Neal isn't most people." Mozzie finished. In a moment of surprising tenderness, he draped the blanket in his hands over Neal - making sure to cover the conman's feet.

"Th'nks Moz..." Neal mumbled, pressing his head against the couch cushions.

Mozzie rolled his eyes and patted Neal's head - such as Peter did with Satchmo. The FBI agent's fingers tingled slightly at the thought.

"Go to sleep Neal." The lawyer grumbled in seeming exaggeration.

"Mhmm."

Peter didn't even bother to try and keep the smile from his face.

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**I don't even know the backstory for this one. O.o It just sort of... came out. But it made me smile...**


	7. Chapter 7

**I am personally of the belief that Peter and Neal would be beter roommates if they weren't staying at Neal's place. He is a tad touchy about the proper care of his things. If they were - say - on a stakeout where they had to sleep on a smelly dirty old couch - I think they would get along a lot better. ^^**

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"Hey." Peter nudged Neal's shoulder with his foot. "Stop that."

Neal rubbed his eyes and blinked blearily. "Stop what?" He yawned, shifting slightly on the couch.

Peter prodded the side of Neal's face with his toe. "Stop mumbling."

Neal slapped Peter's foot away from his face and lifted his head to look at the FBI agent lethargically. "I'm not mumbling."

Peter lips twitched slightly in a smile. "Yeah – you were. You talk in your sleep."

Neal blinked, surprise etched in his blue eyes. "I do not." He said back reflexively before cocking his head to the side- a motion that gave him an odd resemblance to Satchmo. Peter fought the urge to laugh – although his eyes softened fondly all the same.

"I talk in my sleep?"

"Sure do."

Neal blinked again. "Huh." He glanced over at the wall – as though he was looking for a clock. Upon seeing none, he turned back to Peter. "What time is it?"

Peter sat up, pulling his legs away from Neal's side, and looked down at his watch. "Half past six." He yawned and rubbed his eyes. "I'm going to make some coffee – want some?"

Neal's grimaced as he too sat up. He had just recently learned that - when on a stake out - the quality of living was rarely up to his... exceptional... standards. In other words - the coffee sucked.

"No - thanks. I'll stick to water."

Peter allowed a large grin to spread across his face as he turned away from Neal. It was worth a million nights of sleeping on a smelly, dirty couch with another man's feet in his face to hear Neal Caffrey mumble _Italian roast _in his sleep.

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** I wrote this days ago - but I have been stuck up in the mountains - in four feet of snow - with no internet connection. All for a friend's - grandfather's - brother's wedding that I was invited to... long story, so I won't go into the details of it. But it was fun. We made snow men and had hot cocoa and these GIANT marsmellows. I swear - it was HUGE. ^^**

**Just in case you are confused about Peter and Neal's sleeping positions - it is like this. **

**Bed**

**Peter's head is on the 'B' and his feet are at the 'd'. Neal's head is at the 'd' and his feet are at the 'B'. Not that complicated. ^^**


	8. SATCHMO!

**Okay – am I the only person that has connected the dots on this one? In the pilot episode – when Peter is trying to figure out what to do for his anniversary – he comments that Elizabeth likes _jazz _when he is going through her eBay bids and stuff. What is their dog's name? SATCHMO! What is Louis Armstrong's nickname? SATCHMO! Why does this matter? IT DOESN'T! But it is just SO cool all the same!**

**… I'm sorry. I don't have an actual chapter right now… I just wanted to share this moment of realization with the world... I'll make it up to you later – I promise. ^^**

**Lilly - over and out.**


	9. Chapter 9

**I own nothing. If I did, there would be a lot more 'aww' worthy moments between Neal and Peter. **

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"_There was blood and tongues of fire above the blue-black fjord and the city- _alright, what don't you understand about it?! It can't get any clearer!" Neal shouted in frustration, his hands gesturing wildly to emphasize his point.

"There is _nothing _clear about it!" Peter smacked the desk with the flat of his hand after every word, as though – by doing so – he could drive his point in to Neal more clearly. "It doesn't make _any _sense – and if he wrote that, then why didn't he become a writer instead of a painter?"

Neal seemed to swell with indignation. "_Painter!?_ PAINTER! He was an _artist_, Peter! Not a _painter!"_

"It's the same thing!" Peter shot back.

Neal gaped at him. "_The same thing_? Are you a complete buffoon!?"

Peter couldn't hold back his laughter anymore – but Neal seemed oblivious to the chortles of mirth coming from his partner.

"A _painter _only _paints! _Edvard Munch was an ARTIST! He used oils and pastels and- and…"

"The painting doesn't make any sense, Neal!" Peter interrupted, his laughter quieting somewhat. "I don't understand what the big deal is about _The Shrieker-"_

"It is called-" Neal said through gritted teeth. "_The Scream."_

Peter waved Neal's correction with a shake of his hand. "It looks like something a kid would draw."

Neal looked flabbergasted. "A kid – a kid! You are comparing Edvard Munch's _The Scream _to a children's doodle!?"

They looked at each other in silence for a few seconds – with Neal breathing heavily and Peter's lips twisted in an amused smile – and then they were both laughing.

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***buries head in shame* I found this hidden in the deep dark depths of my hard drive and since I had nothing else to post - I decided to put this up. They are so horribly out of character... *bangs head against desk in frustration* Agh! I - need - to - stop - being - so - hypercritical - of - my - writing! *sighs* Oh well.**

**Pleae review.**


	10. Chapter 10

Neal dropped the gun as though it had burned him and stumbled backwards, trembling. Peter held up his hands, not really knowing _why _he did it – but doing it all the same. He felt like he should.

"Neal..." _It's okay – it's alright – it'll be okay – are you okay – thank you – _what was he supposed to say? He had just… essentially… made Neal a _murderer._ No. That wasn't the right word. Not at all. Neal wasn't a _murderer – _he had killed a murderer in the defense of a federal agent - But it felt wrong – so terribly wrong…

Neal had killed somebody.

_On his order._

Peter felt a shiver of cold race down his spine. Neal had shot somebody on _his _order. His.

He didn't know how he felt about that.

Neal sank to the floor, back pressed against the wall, head buried in arms. Something in Peter crumbled at the sight and he had to blink rapidly to clear his eyes. He lowered his hands and stepped towards Neal – _his partner – his friend – _and sank down beside him, his arm automatically draping around the _oh-so-slightly _trembling shoulders. They said nothing.

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** I was going to write a long story (filled with angst and drama and lovely Neal/Peter brotherlyness) - but I couldn't get the story out of my head and on paper. So all I got down was this. :P Oh well. Fanfiction is just Fanfiction. **

**SEASON FINALE TOMORROW NIGHT! Peter whumpage seen in the preview! PETER WHUMPAGE! *clutches chest* Does this mean that NEAL will be saving PETER!? I refuse to believe that Neal is turning bad. I refuse. All will end well. With lots of hugs. And shoulder pats. And head taps.**

**It has to. Or I will most likely cry. Please review!**


	11. Chapter 11

**I literally cried all throughout the season finale. And then the ending! Neal's cries of torment... I am positive Peter's heart broke just as surely as mine did.**

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"I swear, Peter – if you bring deviled ham with you again…" Neal leaned back in his chair, running a hand over his face tiredly, his face adopting a look of weariness.

Peter gave a soft snort of laughter. "What'll you do? Wave your hat at me?" His lips twitched in a smile as he snatched said hat out of Neal's lap. "Besides, deviled ham on stakeouts is tradition."

Neal made no move to retrieve his hat, seeming to enjoy the sight of Peter attempting to mimic his own hat trick much more amusing. "Traditions are meant to be broken." He said with a grin – a hopeful look upon his face. "And I know this great Italian place only a block away –"

"No." Peter gave up with the hat and tossed it back to Neal, who caught it deftly. "The last time I went to eat with you, I got food poisoning. I'm not letting you choose what we eat anymore. Besides it's a stake out – we can't be sitting half a block away knawing on overpriced fish sticks."

Neal scowled. "_Cher's _does not sell _fishsticks_! And you did not get food poisoning. You had a stomach virus."

Peter pointed a finger at Neal, shaking it firmly at the conman with every word. "Doesn't matter. I choose what we eat and we are eating deviled ham. Do you have a problem with that?"

Neal opened his mouth to protest, but Peter didn't give him a chance to speak – instead plowing on as though Neal had already answered..

"Good. Now come on. El called and she wants us over for lunch." He stood up and began to shrug his jacket on. As an afterthought, he added, "A real lunch this time. Not like last time."

Neal stood up and stretched. "Fine." He said with a small sigh, accepting defeat. Peter clapped his hand on the consultant's shoulder approvingly as they walked out of the office and Neal couldn't help but smile.

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**The last three minutes of the finale was so sweet and sad. Did you see Peter's face when he figured out why Neal hadn't said goodbye to him? He looked so happy - but at the same time sad - but hopeful - and - and... *sobs* There wasn't a single solitary hug, head tap, or shoulder clap through the entire thing!**

**But I am choosing to view Peter holding Neal back at the end as an abstract sort of hug. That moment would've ended in a hug anyways. *hypnotic eyes* I have forseen it.**

**Please review!**


	12. Chapter 12

"Leave him alone, Cruz." Peter's voice was firm as he glanced up from his newspaper. Lauren shrank back slightly from the chair Neal had fallen asleep in and quickly put the pen in her hand back on the table.

"I was just going to-" She attempted to explain, silently hoping that her boss would have a sudden surge of mischievousness and let her follow through on her plan. But she knew it wouldn't happen. Peter only had those odd bursts of mischievousness with Neal.

Peter leaned over and picked up the pen. "I know what you were going to do." Peter slipped the pen into his pocket. "But if Caffrey wakes up with his face covered in ink, he won't be happy and I really don't want to have to deal with a sulky consultant all day. Just leave him be."

Lauren sighed and glanced over at Jones, who had been following the conversation silently. Their eyes met and he flashed her a small smile, shrugging slightly. They both were slowly growing accustomed to it – Peter watching out for Neal in small ways. _Ways he would have never done for them. _Just little things… nothing of any real consequence – just enough to signify that Peter and Neal were more than just agent and consultant. _They were friends. _Despite everything.

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**Not my favorite - but it will do. I really have no backstory as to why Neal, Peter, Lauren and Jones were all at the same place but Neal was asleep... let's just say its another stakeout. Or a really late night at the office. Ugh. I. Can't. Think. Right. Now. :P**

**Okay - I think we all know that at some point the producers are going to attempt to make Lauren Neal's love intrest. It is bound to happen. But I don't want this. You know what I want?**

**Jones/Lauren. Jonren. Launes. Lajo. Jola. JOLA! I want a Jola pairing. I want Jones and Lauren to get together. I really do... it is super odd... but I want it to happen. Jola. Spread the love. ^^**


	13. Chapter 13

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Lauren won't be in season 2? Wow. That throws a wrench in my Jola plans... but hey - Jones isn't stuck on a two mile leash. Jola shall live on in fanfiction... maybe. If the idea catches on. ^^

**But with Lauren out of the picture that means Alex will be in more episodes, trying to cozy up with Neal... *scowls* And I don't like Alex. I don't REALLY know why - I just... don't.**

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"I'm going to go pick up some takeout - it looks like we're going to be here a while. Do you want anything?"

Peter looked up to see Neal - with rumpled hair and rolled up sleeves - waiting in the doorway with his hands in his pockets. He didn't really know why, but he loved seeing his smooth-talking comrade looking somewhat unkempt and bedraggled. It was nice having proof that the infamous_ Neal Caffrey _was still human and a long day pouring over records and files affected him just as much as it would anyone else in the office. Fighting back a smile, Peter stretched and leaned back in his chair.

"Sure – where're you planning on heading?"

Neal shrugged. "Does Chinese sound fine?"

Peter shrugged back. As long as he could pronounce what he was eating and there was nothing still living on the plate – he was good. "Yeah, sure. Just bring me back whatever." He glanced at the clock. "And don't take too long."

"I'm just going to stretch my legs a bit." Neal said easily, waving away Peter's comment without a second thought. Peter looked at Neal sharply.

"I'm serious Neal. It's a go and come back thing – no side stops this time." The last time his consultant had gone to '_stretch his legs' _– he had been gone for hours.

Neal rolled his eyes. "I swear on Elizabeth's cooking – I will be right back."

Peter's lips twitched in response – but he didn't allow himself to break out in a full grin until the _somewhat-reformed-conman_ was out of sight.

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**I love Peter's little half-smile. ^^ You know the one where you just KNOW he is thinking 'adorable - adorable - adorable'. ^^ It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. **


	14. Chapter 14

"Jones – what's wrong with Caffrey?"

Jones looked up from his desk, startled at Hughes's sudden appearance. The elderly FBI agent was looking across the room with a sour look upon his face – his gaze set upon Neal. Jones glanced at the _conman-turned-consultant_ and shrugged. He seemed well enough. _A bit quiet_… but he looked fine.

"He looks fine to me, Sir."

Hughes scowled. "Caffrey hasn't been that quiet the entire time he's been here." His brow furrowed. "Where's Burke?"

Jones shrugged. "Out at lunch. He had Neal stay behind to finish up some paperwork… " He froze, his mouth forming a small 'o' of sudden understanding.

Hughes lifted his eyes skyward, as though in prayer. "Oh for the love of -" He growled. "He's _sulking._"

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**Ridiculously short - ultimately pointless - and definatly not my best. But I'm posting it anyways. ^^ Please review.**


	15. Chapter 15

"Touch my coffee and you'll be doing cold cases for a month." Peter said firmly, not looking up from his newspaper.

Hughes watched from across the room as Caffrey sat down across from the WCC agent with a bemused, _"Good morning to you too, Peter."_ The conman-turned-consultant dropped a Danish pastry in front of Burke and picked up the foam cup of coffee anyways, regardless of the warning.

The agent seemed to find the exchange acceptable, despite his previous words – judging from the fond crinkle around his eyes as he took a bite out of the offering.

**

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Please review despite the ridiculous shortness of this chapter. **


	16. Chapter 16

He can see it in those blue eyes. _The want._ The longing. He sees it when Burke talks about his wife – the garden he helped her plant in the backyard - _his neighbors, how Mr. and Mrs. So – and - So were trying to have another baby – his dog and how it seemed to only eat his left shoes…_

It is moments like this when the conman wears his heart on his sleeve – his innermost desires plain upon his face… _he wants it so badly_… to be able to live in a _home_. To have a beautiful wife. To be able to curl up on the couch with the woman he loved. To have the house smell like gingerbread at Christmas and boiled egg at Easter – to have the halls lined wall to wall with sleeping bags and blankets when the relatives visit – to have… _something._ Anything.

Caffrey wants it. He wants his criminal record to fade away – he wants the tracker around his ankle to disappear – he wants a nine to five job – _he wants it all._ He wants to have somebody stay up waiting for him to come home. He wants to have somebody whose hand molds perfectly into his. He wants to have somebody with dancing eyes and a warm smile tell him she loves him…

But…_ sometimes we don't always get what we want._

And I think Caffrey is starting to realize that.

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**I don't know who's POV this is from. Let's just assume it is some random FBI guy...**

**Somebody asked me if I was going to write anymore for 'The Odd Couple' and I have to tell you - when I read that review I was kind of like...**

_**I didn't think I had stopped... O.o**_

**Please review!**


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